Wrong

Capable hands hold a rifle.
Capable hands hold a pen.
Capable minds can do both.
So why isn’t peace possible?

These thoughts trouble me
and steal my sleep,
as I lay in my first world bed,
listen to the soft breath of my partner,
fresh from an evening shower,
sated by my first world meal,
comfortable after medication
to ease my first world knee injury.

In my first world life
I cannot know the pain
of losing a partner,
of forgetting the taste of fresh food,
of sleeping on sack cloth,
of not knowing the feeling
of having clean hair and clothes,
and not having a bandage to stop the bleeding.

I cannot know this pain,

from here in my first world –
but i can know it is wrong.

No

In a bed

Or a car.

On a plane

Or a train.

In the long grass

Or a barren beach.

Against a wall

Or a kitchen table.

As long as it isn’t

Against a will.

This Life

While the days become short

And the nights much longer,

And my mind digs deeper

And stirs up the mud –

And then clouds my dreams.

.

In fitful sleep I’m troubled

And filled with self doubt,

And clinging to straws

And words of kind friends –

And trying to focus on good.

.

When dawn fills my eyes

And once again I am calm,

And family stands beside me

And reminds me of fine times –

And the kindnesses we’ve shared.

.

I fill my lungs with fresh air

And my heart with their love,

And my mind with sound knowledge

And my hands with hard work –

And go on rejoicing this life.

Another Day

 I met a man upon the beach
 One steamy summer morn'.
 He was quiet and calm,
 And as we stood and watched -
 Another day was born.


 As the first rays touch our chests
 I turned to look at him once more.
 His hair was long,
 His feet were bare,
 His robes were wet and worn.


 He turned to me a gaze that pierced,
 Then filled me with content.
 His eyes were deep
 His face was calm
 His soul was on display.


 He invited me to share repast
 We sat and watched the rising sun -
 And ate his fish
 And ate his bread
 And drank no finer brew.


 Conversation flowed with ease
 As if brought upon the gentle breeze
 We spoke of things
 That summer dawn
 Which calmed my jagged mind.


 I walk that beach now ev'ry day
 And feel the same sweet peace -
 As nature flows
 And the ocean sighs
 And seabirds eulogise.

Mind Your Step

Be mindful where your bare feet fall,

Fear not the proclaimed poppy tall,

Listen not to any demon's call,

Try not to drop the fragile ball.




Treat others with a heart that's kind,

Remember it's your own free mind,

Don't be strayed, nor unforgivingly blind,

Leave not your conscience far behind.




Stand strong and mighty as the elm,

Ever mindful that you have the helm,

Try not to be too overwhelmed,

Many hands will help you in this realm.




Tread ever lightly in our plane,

Push not against this earthly grain,

Cause not you heart unpleasant strain,

And upon your path you shall remain.

Prayers

on incense clouds

our prayers depart

leaving only plastic

Mindful

Stop, listen, what’s that sound

It’s another heart

Along side yours

Beating time

A drum

Peace